Define Loser
by WordArtisan
Summary: It's been 2 years since my dad died. My mom's married to a new guy in town named Frank Dale. I thought at first that all this would mean would be a freaky stepsister. I was miserably wrong. Ch. 6 up! DxS T for safety R&R! No flames plz! ERRORS NOW FIXED!
1. Sara Louise

Chapter 1

Sara Louise

2 years. That's how long it'd been since the accident that changed my life forever. And no, I don't mean the one that gave me ghost powers. I mean the one that killed my dad.

My mom had been dating this new guy in town. Now don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't like the guy, but he could be a little…strange… Mom says he has a daughter about my age, Sara Louise. She also said that Sara Louise and I could get to be "great friends".

I think not.

Well, it all started one evening. Mom and Frank were in the living room, watching "The Hills" on TV. Jazz was crouched behind the stairs like a four-year-old, spying on them like Mom's date was actually something remotely interesting. Mom dating any guy that wasn't Dad made my blood boil, so I decided to be a real spazz and call down the stairs, "Jazz! I'm reading your diary!" I stretched out the words and made them as eardrum-shatteringly loud as possible.

"You're WHAT?!" she screamed, face twisted in rage, jumping out from her hiding place and blowing her cover royally. Mom and Frank's heads turned. Jazz's cheeks and the bridge of her nose turned as red as her hair. She smiled, embarrassed, as she walked up the stairs to meet me in the hall. "Why have you got to be so immature sometimes?" she snapped. "Grow up," she added, right before she slammed the door in my face.

"At least I'm not spying on people," I said through the keyhole. Jazz threw a pillow at the door as hard as possible.

"You know, fifty percent of all household accidents happen on stairs," said Frank. I slapped my forehead. You see, this was just the thing I was talking about when I said "strange".

Right before I turned on my heel to get myself a Gatorade from the kitchen, I saw a picture of Dad hanging on the wall with a terrible heart-wrenching pang. I couldn't understand how Mom could date someone, knowing that Dad died still in love with her. I clenched my fist, still trying to look my Dad's portrait in the eyes; somehow it was harder to look at his face now that he was dead.

"Kids! Come down here!" I heard my mom's voice from downstairs and squeezed my eyes shut. Jazz burst from behind her door and slid down the banister. I walked down the stairs slowly, clutching the left banister as hard as possible.

Frank wrapped an arm around Mom's shoulders. They were both beaming down at us. "We have great news," said Mom. My stomach dropped. "We're getting married!" they said together. A lump appeared in my throat. "And that means that Frank's daughter Sara Louise will be moving in with us," she added. I let out a low groan. "Isn't it wonderful? We'll all be Dales now!"

A tiny flame was growing inside me, like someone lit some inner candle that no one of my consciences could blow out. I could almost feel my eyes glowing green. "I think I'll keep my own last name, thanks," I said as nonchalantly as possible. Jazz cleared her throat.

"Aw, this is…this is great," said Jazz, hugging Mom. I felt like a real butt for crashing the moment and all, but it was just too much. I hoped that Mom would understand.

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"I don't understand, Danny."

Jazz and I were given the task of carrying Frank's and Sara's stuff into the house. Sweat trickled down the side of my face as we trooped from the moving van to Mom's room to the upstairs and back down to the van. Personally, I didn't get why Sara couldn't carry her own stupid cardboard boxes. She had two arms that weren't broken. I guessed some people were just born divas. And what about Frank? He was bigger and stronger than both of us. He should get his lazy butt in here and help us, I thought insolently.

"I don't understand YOU, Jazz," I retorted snappishly, setting a really heavy box down on the bare floor of Sara's new room, a really good, big one with the best view in the house and a closet big enough for Jazz and I to stand in it and close the doors without being cramped. Figures that Little Miss Daddy's Girl would get the best room. "How can you approve of Mom marrying another guy? Dad never thought about anyone else!"

Jazz sighed, setting a box down on a glimmering wooden desk against the right wall of the room that was apparently Sara's laptop, or something. "I know, Danny, I know," she said awkwardly. "Mom and Dad…geez, they were the best couple in the world. The unstoppable Fentons, Jack and Maddie. And for a while, I couldn't figure out how she could date another man, too. And Danny, she was so much in love with our dad. But times change and…people change. Life moves on, Danny." She laid a hand on my shoulder. "And sometimes we can't just sit in the past." With that, she left me standing in the middle of the carpeted room, staring at my shoes, to get more boxes.

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After a few days of getting everything ready and a wedding that I missed a good part of, the day finally came when Frank and Sara arrived. They pulled up in front of the house in a black car that looked like it'd been yanked out of an old movie. It was going to keel over any minute. My palms were sweaty with nervousness. Here was the Great Halfa, known all over the world, almost shaking. So I can face ghosts but I can't face my new life with my family totally screwed around? Pretty pathetic, I told myself, slamming myself. I saw a head bobbing up and down, to the beat of the radio, probably, behind the shaded back window. Frank stepped out of the car. So did his daughter.

Oh. She was that Sara Louise.

She was tall and redheaded, with her waist-length hair in a long, loose braid. Her ocean blue eyes sparkled with curiosity, even excitement at a whole new life ahead of her. She was wearing a hot pink skirt with what looked like gold-painted plastic play coins and gold fringe attached to it that reached her sandaled feet. She also had on a black 4-H T-shirt with a thin, moss green, untied shawl over her shoulders. She had her pale fists balled around the handles of two brown leather suitcases. She was probably the most unpopular kid at school, the lowest of the low, beneath me and my friends on the food chain, if that was even possible. Living with her might just put me on a new level of unpopularity. I don't know how I could've missed that. There aren't that many Sara Louises running around.

Boy, she was making a scene. Kids from school that were walking by my house had stopped to look at her odd choice of clothes, giggling, and some of the real jerks were pointing and probably calling her names. I braced myself for a screaming fit from Sara…

Okay, either she was deaf or really stupid. She didn't even seem to hear Dash and Kwan having a good laugh over her. She always acted like this at school, but I thought surely without the peer pressure she'd blow her cool. I know I would.

Oh no. She was headed for the door with Frank. I braced myself. Jazz looked actually happy for a second, but then a ghost of a frown passed over her face (no pun intended).

"Danny," she said, "Jazz." She sounded really calm, setting her suitcases down by the door. Jazz had a look on her face for just a second that just screamed, 'Don't call me Jazz', but then she continued to smile. She didn't sound nasally and congested like you average nerd. Not that I'd admit that. She walked over and threw her arms around my neck in a hug. I patted her back awkwardly. "So, I guess we're siblings now, huh?" she said after hugging Jazz. I wanted to say 'Well, duh' but Mom would kill me.

She grabbed her suitcases and headed for the stairs. "Danny, help your sister with her bags," said Mom. My cheeks burned. I started for one of the suitcases.

"No, please, I'll handle it," she said. I raised my eyebrows. "Thanks anyway, though," she added. Jazz and I followed her upstairs.

"Poppin' room," she said happily, gazing around her new place without blinking and plopping down on her blank off-white sheets.

She kicked off her Greek-looking sandals that laced all the way up to her knees and rested her head against her shoulder.

Jazz plopped down on the bed beside her and threw an arm around her shoulders. "This is so great. We're going to have so much fun."

Yeah, right.

Jazz and I headed down the hall after we showed Sara where all her stuff was.

"So, you're not any more excited about this than I am, huh?" I said.

"What are you talking about?" she asked confidently, even though her cheeks were pink.

"Oh, come on. I saw the look you gave her back there."

"Try to keep an open mind, Danny. I'm actually excited about this."

"I'm not."

I crossed my arms. Jazz put her hands on my shoulders, looking down with pity and understanding in her eyes. "I understand," she said, looking at a family picture across the hall. "But Mom really loves this guy. Don't you think it's about time that we did something for her, instead of the other way around?" I slumped over. "Try to keep an open mind, okay?" she finished. Then she took a sharp right into her red-painted room and closed the door. Good riddance to her. I will most certainly NOT keep an open mind. All Sara and I will be is housemates. That's it, I thought stubbornly. I slouched into my room and shut the door as hard as possible, almost rattling a priceless heirloom vase off of its table in the hall.

I had some more time ahead of me.


	2. Sam

Chapter 2

Sam

I picked at my chicken dinner. It was our first dinner as a "family" and I wasn't happy about eating with Frank and Sara Louise. My jaw was set, squinting at Mom and Frank laughing over some adult joke that I didn't get. I started scooping up spoonfuls of mashed potato and letting them slide off the metal and back onto the china plate venomously, thinking up excuses; anything to get me away from this table! I finally gave up, finding no excuse that I (a like or (b would fool Mom and Jazz, who'd spent the better part of nine years with me doing stuff like this. Frank might buy it, though.

Sara opened her mouth to speak. I was getting really tired of her endless drone. She'd almost never spoken to us, and when she did say something, it was about some math test or chess club that I didn't want to know in the first place.

"Did you know that popular legend says that vampires' only purpose is to suck blood, Mrs. Fen—I mean, Mom?" she asked, stumbling. Maybe you should just call her Mrs. Fenton for a few days, Sara.

"Ummm…yes, I knew that much about them…" Mom played with her food moving her turkey breast around in the gravy on her plate with her fork awkwardly. Why was she launching into vampires, anyway? Why now?

"They're really a lot deeper than that," continued Sara. "They're mortal enemies with other paranormal creatures, mostly because they think they're dominant, but it's also instinct. You see, when the world was young and foreign countries like Germany and Belgum were ruled by the surreal, vampires had control over all the other creatures. It's really very interesting…" She started babbling like a moron about vampires; how they sucked blood, how putting you under a trance or killing you with their bite was actually optional, their rise and fall…man, just shut up!

I pushed my plate away from me with a deafening screech, silencing Sara and all activity at the table. I walked upstairs in a huff, muttering something about not being hungry.

I wasn't too far up the staircase when I heard footsteps behind me.

_Oh, great, _I thought. _Now Sara is going to follow me._

"Danny! Hey, Danny, wait up!"

Oh good. It was Jazz. Not that I stopped to acknowledge her or anything crazy like that. (There's that sarcasm again.)

I heard her scurrying after me in her telltale black ballet flats, running up the stairs at top speed to catch up.

"Hey, I was calling you back there," she said, sticking her arm out in front of me in the hallway. "What's up with you? Everybody's talking about you. Not hungry my eye…you usually gobble down everything that's not on a plate already…"

"Look, Jazz, I'm not in the mood to talk." I took a step forward. Jazz gripped my shoulder.

"Oh, no. You're not getting away that easily." She looked down at me with daggers shooting out of her teal eyes. "We have some business to take care of."

"Oh, and what might that be?" I shot back at her, brows furrowed, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"Well, it's just that—oh no, you don't!" Jazz stood, hands on her hips moodily, staring down at the carpet, but I'd already phased through the floor into the lab, waving and grinning innocently.

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"Danny, go see what your sister wants."

"No."

"Do it or you're grounded."

"Fine!"

I was puzzling over the class question in a depressed person's mind as I tramped upstairs: Why? Why me and not someone else? Why couldn't Dash have a sister like Sara?

I knocked on the doorframe and pushed the door open. Sara was at her laptop, typing something; the light of the computer screen threw a scar on her left cheek that I was sure hadn't been there yesterday at dinner into relief.

"Hey—Danny?" she said, raising one of her eyebrows. "Sorry, I was sort of expecting Mom."

"I figured," I retorted, slumping.

"I was just going to see when dinner was. That's all."

"Okay." I stared, squinting, at the scar on her face, surrounded by a not-too-obvious bruise. It looked like, for a minute, it turned acid green. She stared at me like I had pill bugs crawling out of my ears.

"O-kay…why are you staring at me?" she asked, obviously pretty freaked.

I shook my head, gesturing at my own cheek. "It's just…your scar…"

"Oh, this? Geezus, I thought…I'd had toilet paper stuck to my foot all day." She laughed, almost nervously, touching her bruised scab. "I just tripped, is all. You can thank Dashel Baxter for that."

I bit my lip. "Why are you so dorky?" I asked quickly, spitting out a question that'd been burning me for a couple of years. No! Great going, Fenton, Mom's going to kill you! I expected an explosion or maybe even tears. How awkward would that be?

But Sara just laughed. Was she insane or something?

"I'm sorry…that did not come out right…"

"No, no, it's fine, no offense taken." I raised an eyebrow and gave the back of her head a look like she was star-raving crazy, since she'd already turned her attention back to her computer screen.

"Alright, look, something's up," I said bluntly. "You're president of the chess club, president of the math club, president of the English club, and every kid at Casper thinks you're a dweebette. They all must've called you a name at least once," I continued, cheeks burning with embarrassment, remembering being in ninth grade with her had meant calling her "four eyes" a couple of times. Ahem. Continuing. "And yet you don't take offense to anything they say. Why is that?"

"It's beyond just being deaf or really stupid." Man! Was she a mind reader or something? "I've reached a stage of not caring." With that, she went back to her computer with her eyes practically glued to the screen. And I left the room.

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"So, how would you deal with this?"

Sam put a finger to the side of her face thoughtfully. Man, she was pretty. "Hmmm…I'll have to think of something…"

I was sitting on her bed, stuffing my face with Cheesy Curls and other junk. I couldn't take Sara's infinite conversation about vampires anymore.

The doorbell rang. "I'll get that!" Sam shouted down the stairs, running in her combat boots to beat her mom to the front door.

I reached into the snack bowl for another Cheesy Curl, and, to my immense despair, I was all cheesed out.

Okay, that sounded a lot better in my head.

I glanced around her room. She'd redecorated since ninth grade: her walls were covered in red silk, and a gauzy black fabric covered top of her black-painted canopy; her parents'd gotten a hotel-type half bath built into the far side of her room, complete with a marble ink and a mirror outside it. She had ebony wood on the floor now instead of carpet and framed pictures stared out at me from all over in different places. I got up to examine some of them just to keep myself halfway entertained.

"Danny, I brought more junk food—what are you doing?" I jumped as I heard Sam's voice behind me. I looked over my shoulder at her, hunched over, wringing my hands, looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Ghost hunting has definitely made me paranoid. She raised her eyebrows, holding a bowl the size of a minx in her hands stuffed full of Cheesy Curls and potato chips.

"Uh, urm, what does it look like I'm doing? I'm inspecting your photos." I straightened up, trying to maintain some dignity. _Smooth, Fenton. Like she'll buy that._

"Uh-huh. No. I don't think so."

Oh no. Please tell me I'm not where I think I am…

I was standing right by her black desktop computer. Sure enough, it had one of her documents up. A document up for Sam was like a full-fledged KEEP OUT sign. It almost always meant she had something minimized that she did not want seen and if you tried to look at her stuff, she'd basically smack you over the head.

"Okay, this really looks bad, but I really seriously was minding my own business," I said.

"Just sit down," she said, ticked, massaging a migraine.

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A/N: Okay, this wasn't my best chapter, but the next one will be better!


	3. Beaten Up By the Nerd

A/N: This chapter is sort of slow, but it took a long time to write and was very hard to do for me. I'm on a sugar high, so Tucker goes on a sugar high and makes some bad jokes. Prepare yourselves. I got the whole chocolate cake idea from yesterday when me and my friends went to the Olive Garden for my birthday: we all got chocolate deserts (me ending up with a slice of cake with five kinds of chocolate in it), and staggered out of there laughing like hyenas.

WordArtisan

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Chapter Three

Beaten Up By the Nerd

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"_No sign of anything down here…as usual…"_ Sam sounded bored out of her head on the other end of the walkie-talkie. She groaned. I heard munching on her side.

"Late-night snack?" I asked, smirking.

"_It's your best friend chowing down on some chocolate cake. Tucker do you eat anything but sugar, and meat?"_

"_Nope, not really."_

"_Ugh. Boys."_

I made some static-y noises into the walkie-talkie. "…I'm...breaking up…can't…hear you…AAARRGH!!"

"_Aw, shuttup."_

"Oooh, someone's cranky."

"_I'm TIRED. Tucker, throw that mess away!"_

"_YAY CHOCOLATE!"_

"_Uuuuuuuhhhhhh…"_

"You guys are better than TV sometimes. Hold on, I think I saw something."

I jammed the binoculars up to my eyes and stuffed my walkie-talkie into my pocket.

I zipped down next to a small alley that looked like something out of the Twilight Zone: the gutter dripped, they hadn't bothered to repave the road since the 1700's, so it was still cobblestone, and the brick walls were almost black with mildew. Gross. Hmmm…I scratched my chin. I could've sworn there'd been a green flash here just seconds ago, or maybe even a red flash…

"_Hey, Danny!" _Tucker called from the walkie-talkie in my pocket, _"Why'd the chicken cross the road? JUST BECAUSE!"_

I rolled my eyes. Note to self: Never give Tucker chocolate.

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"FENTON!"

Oh, boy. Not this again.

Dash came stampeding down the hall, a vein pulsing in his neck, eyes popping, shoving smaller kids out of his way. He was always pulling stunts like this. I was sure he'd find a way to make the rest of his problems my fault eventually.

"Y'know what this is? It's a D!" he shouted, shoving his failed paper in my face.

"Wow, look who's learned his letters," I sneered. I regretted it almost instantly. Dash reared back with his right fist, ready to strike—

"Leave him alone."

Dash looked over his shoulder. Man, what were you doing, Sara?

"What'd you say, Dale?" said Dash through gritted teeth. All his football buddies were watching with the rest of the hallway crowd, with very "you-tell 'em-dude" looks on their faces.

"I said, leave him alone," said Sara, just as threateningly as Dash, if not more threatening. "I bet you wouldn't be so tough if you were fighting someone your own size."

"Yeah…well…that just not the way I roll!" Dash was trying to save face in front of his friends. You could almost see steam coming out of Sara's ears. "Just go cry to your mom or something, Dale—oh wait…she's dead!"

The next events happened in a flash: she punched him in the face, twisted his arm behind his back, and kicked him down on the floor. My jaw hung agape. The football team looked like they might lose their lunches.

Sara tucked a strand of her bright red hair behind her ear, gasping for breath with her face still flushed. She pushed past the crowd and ran for the door.

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A/N: Okay, not the best chapter like I said in chappie 2. But like I said in my other note, it was difficult to write for me.


	4. He's All Yours

_A/N: I forgot to put a disclaimer in the last three chappies! Oh, well. In other news, I've been added to some story alerts! Yeah! Thanks y'all!_

_About the chapter, this is coming to the climax of the story. It's still technically a build-up chapter, but I introduce Fury in this one. There is some DxS pairing, but it's hard for me to write in guys' POV's. I've been reading more stuff, and I figured out that back in one of my previous chapters, the line that read "Did you catch the sarcasm up there? 'K, just checking" was used first in the ff, "Fanfiction". I would like to apologize for that. Also, there are a couple of bad words in this chapter, but they're not that bad. (I've got to stop writing such long A/N's.)_

_WordArtisan_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom, but I do own Sara Louise, Frank, and Fury.**_

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Chapter Four

He's All Yours

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Sara wasn't at any of her classes for the rest of the day. Apparently, Dash had hit a pretty big nerve and paid for it with a fat bruise on his face and a trip to the nurse's office. He looked like he wanted to crawl into his pencil box and never come out. If only I'd had a camera!

It raised some curiosity about how she'd learned to fight with people twice her size. I mean, she didn't take any classes, well, not to my knowledge anyway.

_But what do I know?_ _She only moved in a couple of months ago._

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"_Nothing…nothing…nothing…okay, wait, I see something."_

"Great. I'll be right down."

Finally. Being up in the sky for four hours straight was making me dizzy and nauseous.

There'd been some really weird reports on the news and in the papers about some green ecto-goo showing up in weird places, like on shop windows and (surprise-surprise) at Casper. More sarcasm.

I landed beside Sam on the pavement. "There's a whole big trail of it leading off that way," she said, pointing down the green-glowing sidewalk. I nodded, panting, and headed off down the street. "Be careful!" she shouted. I blushed.

I stopped dead when I heard screaming and grunting not too far away in the direction of the park. Oh man, looked like I had a fight on my hands.

"_Lying, cheating, damned—"_

Whoever was in that brawl cursed like a sailor and punctuated her foul language with kicks and punches you could hear. There were worse words than that echoing across town.

_That's one tough girl._

I broke into a run, bracing myself to get hit when I told them to break it up. I'd run into people like this before, and come out of it with battle scars. Hopefully this'd be easier.

I ran through the park gates and my feet crunched dry fall leaves on the green treated grass. The topiary trees cast long, eerie shadows across the ground and over the gate, making it seem like they were alive. Wow, this place was creepy at night.

I could hear the two barroom brawlers throwing more martial arts moves at each other, vocalizing and spitting out worse words by the minute. This'd be a big one. The glowing green trail still led off in big dollops towards the sound.

I heard a man's voice call the girl he was fighting with a really bad name and I mean really bad.

"_What'd you say?! TAKE IT BACK!" _she screamed. Then I heard a series of punches and kicks, and something hit the floor with a thud. _"You ready to take that back?!" _she growled.

"_I take it back! I take it back!"_

I made a sprint for the source of all that fuss, over in a dark corner of the park. When I got there, the first thing I saw was a shock of waist-length bright red hair. Not Sara-red, like an orangey tomato shade, but really bloodred. The same girl had her back turned, wearing a black cape that was barely visible in the shade.

"Hey! HEY! Break it up!"

She turned to face me, so fast that it looked like she had a twitch.

Oh God.

Her face was so white that it would make paper look gray, with bright red freckles on her cheeks. Teeth that were about twice the normal length fanged her smile. There was a really weird green glow around her.

Sirens blared in the distance and red-and-blue police lights flashed on the pavement. Her evil grin just widened.

"Here ya go, he's all yours," she laughed, throwing her unconscious opponent at me with such a force that it almost knocked me over. With that, she disappeared.


	5. Define Loser

_A/N: This is the chapter that's the story's namesake. It's not really bouncy action, but I think it's pretty good. The piece in italics is a third-person flashback, BTW. This is also where the suspense comes in, so brace yourselves. I don't think I'll be able to update really soon, I have my 'One-shot, Two-shot, Red-shot, Blue-shot' on this archive, and I also have one on 'Bridge to Terabithia' and one on 'Drake and Josh'. It's probably not smart on my part to have all these things on going at the same time…but I want to have dibs on some of my plots. I know that my chapters have been getting shorter and shorter, and I'm really trying to work on that. If you guys feel like my quality has slipped as well as the length of my chapters, please tell me. I've been seriously considering putting it in Sara's POV or third person. Tell me what you think._

_I need to clarify something about the age of Danny and Jazz: Danny is 16 in this fanfic, but Jazz hasn't had her birthday yet, so she's in senior year._

_-WordArtisan-_

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Chapter Five

Define "Loser"

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_Fury landed outside the brick building on the sidewalk, breathing heavily from her fight with her ribs hurting badly. She staggered over and leaned against the streetlight._

_She thought, sometimes, that she left people with the impression that she was the bad guy. _Well, that jailhouse reject started it_, she thought. _I sound like a whiny little kid. I'm above violence. _Fury took a deep breath, looking up at the sky. Clouds were moving over the moon, and her fangs were already starting to shrink, and her hair changing tone. She'd have to think up a good story this time: her dad wasn't going to buy crappy explanations for how she stayed out until eleven and came home with a bruise on her face. She boosted herself off of the streetlight, no longer her vampire alter-ego, and walked towards the door before she got in another scrap._

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"Bye!"

"See ya!"

Sara waved to Mikey and a bunch of other dorky kids and walked towards me. I was supposed to walk her home after she came home late last night (talk about missing your curfew).

She smoothed down her skirt, handed me her books, and started walking.

"How come I've never met your friends?" she asked after a while.

"Well…you know…they're really—busy—and I get really—busy—" It was official: I have no mad lying skills. "How come I've never met yours?" I asked defensively, trying to buy myself some explanation time.

"You already know my friends," she replied, laughing a little. "Mikey, Kelly, Peter, Rhapsody, Storm. Basically everyone in the math club. They've been in your class forever."

"Oh." Well, that went up in flames. Different question. "Why does everybody else pick on you?" I asked. Dern—I have a knack for stupid questions.

"Why do they pick on you?" she echoed, still smiling.

"No, what I mean is…I don't know any other way to say it, but, everyone thinks you're a loser."

"Define loser," Sara replied, still with that patient tone in her voice, like a kindergarten teacher.

"What's your point?"

"My point is, beauty is in the eye of the beholder," she said. "I'm not a loser to _everybody_. And I am what I am, and even though I don't suit Dash Baxter, I'm not changing any time soon."

There was a long pause. We were right outside the door. "Give me my books." I handed them to her and massaged my forearms. I didn't know Casper offered that many classes. She held them in a stack with one hand while she unlocked the door with the other.

"How did you—never mind," I said shaking my head, closing the door behind me. I hung my jacket up on the coat/hat rack.

"Hey, Sara?" I called.

"Hmmm?"

"What's this on your shoes?" I squatted by the shoe rack and squinted at one of Sara's blue high-tops.

"Oh, that?" she said, relaxed. "I just stepped in something yesterday, that's all." She laughed, popping the top of her coke, and I do mean popping it, like with one thumb. I raised an eyebrow. "Hey, it's on those shoes, too." I pointed to her gold flip-flops.

"Uh-huh, so it is. I'm sure it's nothing." She shrugged and drank some of her soda. "I'm going upstairs," she added.

"Got it." We weren't supposed to bother her while she did her writing. Apparently, she had 'concentration issues'—didn't seem like it when I went up there a couple of months ago.

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	6. Memories and Research

_A/N: I'm surprised that I could chug out another chapter, seeing as I have four other stories going and I'm stressing bigtime about everything. This may not be the fastest or best chapter…but I think it's pretty well written. You've probably already figured out who Fury's alter ego is—if not, the truth comes out in the next few minutes. This chapter is told in Sara's POV, by the way. And just as a warning, this chappie has some cursing in it, but just minor cursing. And the piece in italics is a flashback._

_This chapter is like a big internal struggle. It's dramatic and hopefully somewhat of a tearjerker._

_-WordArtisan-_

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Chapter Six

Memories and Research

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I slammed the door as hard as possible. Dern it, he was onto me. I was really cheesed off with Tasha and everyone else that'd given me flack (which would be the entire Casper High population), and the last thing I needed was my stepbrother spilling the beans to my dad and everyone else. Maybe it was just a got-up-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-bed day. Or maybe it was just a tick-Sara-off-no-end day.

I took off my moss green shrug and tossed it down on my bed. Maybe it was just Tyler Rossville that had me in a huff. He was the guy I'd been beating up. But he started it. He'd broken out of jail, with a grudge that originated in high school against my dad, just to mess up his shop and key his car. Well, I wasn't just going to stand on the sidelines for that. I could put up with losing my dignity to a few sixteen-year-olds, but I'd already lost my mom, and I wasn't going to lose my dad.

I sat down at the computer and got online to do some more research. If I was correct in the theory that'd taken me six years to perfect, all my problems were going to be over pretty soon.

I was thinking pretty hard about Mom at the moment. Maybe I reminded myself of her. Or maybe that bastard Dash had finally gotten inside my head. Dash…I'd like to hit him over the head with a lunch tray for what he'd said…

I was depressed about my mom dying, guilty because I knew it was my fault. More than that, I was scared, afraid that the guilt would destroy me or someone would find out and everyone would hate me…and the most terrible of all, meeting my mom in the afterlife, having to face her and tell her how she died…

"_Hey, Sleeping Beauty."_

"_Hmmm…Mom…?"_

"_Yes, sweetie. I'm here."_

"_Ooh...it hurts…"_

"_I know."_

"_I'm thirsty…terribly thirsty…"_

"_I'll get you some water, then."_

"_No, not water…blood…get me blood…"_

"_How am I supposed to do that? You must be kidding."_

"_No, please…hurry…I have to have blood __**now**__…"_

"_Sara, you're scaring me."_

_Going crazy, I tore my own finger open and started sucking at it insanely. "More…I need more…" My teeth had already grown two sizes, at least. My hair was turning redder with the blood I was taking in. I bit my wrist open; it gushed blood._

"_Sara, stop this now, that's a direct order. What's the matter with you?"_

"_I have to have it…I need it…Mom…run!"_

It'd been too late. I'd just turned into a vampire, and not being able to control whether or not my bite was lethal, I'd attacked my mom.

Tears oozed down my face. I looked at my right hand, which still had the scars on it. Damn, dirty blood—I was a monster. I'd be better off dead so that others could live. The countless people I'd killed when I was ten and eleven…My hands were stained with the blood of their innocence and the dirty skeletons in my closet were calling my name.

I looked around. I'd stood up in my rage, toppled the desk chair over, knocked a few bottles off of my dresser, and was standing there, in front of the mirror, in a fighting stance, with my hair lumpy and ragged and my eyes bloodshot. It was late afternoon, and the moon was already beginning to come out. My teeth had grown a size or two, and my skin was pale against my flaming red hair. Rage still coursed through my veins. My nails were red with the foreign blood I had taken years ago.

Someone knocked on my door.

"State your purpose!" I barked, sounding meaner than I'd wanted to.

"Geezus, Sara…just wanted to tell you dinner's in an hour…"

"Oh…thanks, Danny…" I breathed heavily, clutching my head and sitting on the bed. I concentrated all my energy towards turning back into a normal person.

I looked over at my computer wryly. So much for my research…but it'd only be a matter of time. I glanced over at Mom's picture on my dresser, sadness beyond tears pounding in my head.

_I won't let you down, Mom. You'll be avenged._

I closed down the windows on my computer. You'd bet your bottom dollar that I'd be back to do more research—the faster I could kill the vampire in me, the better.

"Hey, Sara? Are you…okay?" Danny called through the door.

"Yes, Danny…I'm fine…" I glanced over at my computer again, setting my mind at ease with the thought that it'd all be over soon. "…Just fine."


End file.
